


Cheveux Châtains et Aveugles

by pickwicklingpapers



Series: Cophine AUs [10]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, alternative universe, blind date au, krystal is a lovely person but she needs to stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 12:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11646651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickwicklingpapers/pseuds/pickwicklingpapers
Summary: "my friend is so determined to fix me up with somebody better than my string of casual coffee date/hookup partners that i didn’t have the heart to tell her, after she set us up for a blind date, that i actually met you six months ago" au





	Cheveux Châtains et Aveugles

**Author's Note:**

> Wow well it's been 9 months but on the other hand no one dies???

“Mmm, okay, so like, how did your date go the other day?”

Cosima looked up at her flatmate, who was stood in the doorway picking at her fingernails. “Yeah, it was good, Krystal. It was nice.” She took a sip of her coffee, smiling at the thought of her date – the angelic face, the soft honey curls. It had been a nice date, nothing but gentle conversation in a sweet little coffee shop. Not too busy, not too empty – perfect muffins, perfect coffee, perfect company.

Krystal scoffed. “Nice? Babe, if there’s one thing that I know, it’s that good dates aren’t ‘nice’. Nice means that you didn’t hit it. Nice means that you aren’t seeing each other again. Nice is a _bad_ thing.” She moved to the couch and patted Cosima’s hand sympathetically. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, hun, but there’s always next time.”

Cosima looked up. “No, honestly dude, it was good.” The date had worked out. The girl had been lovely, and smart, and witty. They’d chatted for hours, and Cosima honestly couldn’t remember the last time that she’d had such a genuinely pleasant time. She shook her head, slightly exasperated at Krystal’s…krystalness. “It was nice.”

“Mmm, yeah, whatever.” Said Krystal, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Better luck next time.”

 

* * *

 

Cosima unlocked the door to her flat and pushed it open, a faint smile on her face. It was their fourth date, and it had gone just as well as the first three, and the girl was just perfection on earth. She hung her coat and bag up on the stand next to the door, and was unwrapping her scarf when a voice waltzed round the corner.

‘So? Krystal was perched on the couch, painting her nails for the third time that week.

‘It was good.” Cosima said, still grinning slightly at the memory of her date’s tinkling laugh. Just because Krystal’s idea of a good date ends in sex didn’t mean that everyone’s does. “She was brilliant, funny.’

Krystal frowned. ‘Wrong adjectives again, babe. You need to step it up if you want to convince me.” She paused for a moment, concentrating on her next stroke of blinding pink. “You’re not even home late enough that you got some.’ Krystal finished the last coat and held her hands up to the light, inspecting her nails, before sticking small jewels on each one. ‘If anything, it’s just sad.’ She sighed. “Honestly babe, since I got my life sorted and ditched Hector, I have to live precariously through you. To be honest with you, you’re not up to standard. I need gossip. I need drama.”

Cosima loved Krystal, but sometimes she was just so, _annoying_.

 

* * *

 

“Cosima, honey. If you’re coming home with that face, then I hope you got laid.” Ignoring Cosima’s blush, Krystal turned the page of her magazine. “Otherwise, you must have just seen Justin’s new t-shirt.”

Cosima stopped dead, all thoughts of her girlfriend’s body pushed abruptly from her mind. “Justin?” Who the fuck was Justin?

“Oh honey,” Krystal exclaimed, as if Cosima had just confessed to not knowing who Obama was, or Luke Skywalker or some shit. “The one who lives down on the second floor. You know, with the arms?” She sighed and bit her lip. “He’s got a new vest that’s made of so little material it’s practically illegal.”

“Krystal, I’m a lesbian.”

“Yeah, but you can appreciate.”

Cosima resigned herself to listening to Krystal prattle on about Justin for the rest of the night. It was mundane and dull as fuck, but at least it was better than being interrogated about her latest date. It was bad enough that Krystal could apparently tell that Cosima had had sex just by looking at her, without being forced to share details.

Four hours and a vivid description of some biceps later, Cosima wasn’t so sure.

 

* * *

 

“Mmm, okay, this is getting ridiculous.”

Cosima stopped dead. “Yeah, it is.” She shut the door and placed her hands on her hips. “Why are you always here?”

“We live together?”

“Um, yeah, but why are you always waiting for me when I come back from a date?” Cosima sighed. God, she loved Krystal, honestly she did. The girl paid her rent on time, always had a smile, and didn’t have loud parties until 6 in the morning. She was just so genuinely nice to everybody, but this whole date thing had to stop. She scoffed – she wasn’t that bad, surely? Besides, she had been on dates. She’d just come back from one. Sure, she hadn’t shared the details with Krystal, but why should she? It didn’t make her a bad person. It just made her…cautious. And Krystal had no right to be so involved.

“Because I’m invested, hun.” Krystal said, throwing her arms around Cosima. “Besides,” she said, pulling back, “this whole thing just makes me sad.” She tilted her head to one side, perfect lips pursed, and waved up and down at her flatmate.

Cosima stared. “But you just gestured to all of me.”

“Yeah, because it all makes me sad.” Krystal said, patting the brunette on the arm. “You need to get some, hun.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, so. Blonde. Family doctor. Pretty. _Really_ good nails.”

Cosima doesn’t look up from her computer - she has a review to write and give to her boss. Grant money doesn’t grow on trees. “Sounds nice.”

“Good, because you have a date with her on Tuesday.”

Cosima looks up at this, because _what_? This is not in the rulebook. ‘Flatmate’ isn’t synonymous with ‘matchmaker’. The fuck does Krystal think she’s doing? Cosima doesn’t need her help in the dating area. Cosima has a girlfriend, she met her six fucking months ago, she just hasn’t told Krystal that yet because then Krystal would want to _meet_ her, and that would just end badly, so -

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Krystal puts her magazine down, and turns to face her flatmate. “Look, Felix knows her. I did her nails once.” She shrugs. “She’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s clever. You’ll like her. Trust me.”

“But Krystal, I-“

“Have had a string of depressing dates and haven’t gotten laid in at least six months. Mm, yeah, I know.” She turns back to her magazine and starts flicking through the pages. “You need to get out, Cosima. Go on the date. _Please_.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Cosima gets there, it’s a cutsey little coffee shop. Somehow, it’s managed to merge hipster and chic and come out at the bottom end of both groups. It’s trashy and sells expensive coffee with too much cream and is _exactly_ the kind of place that Krystal loves. Which doesn’t put this date in good stead. She doesn’t want to date people who hang out in places like this. The _she’d_ have to hang out in places like this.

She braces herself as she opens the door and yep, there’s the music. The artsy, no melody, no lyrics music that is mainly bass and a slight pop beat. Sure, Cosima listens to her fair share of lyric-less music, but at least hers has an actual rhythm and not a synthetic drumbeat. This place is the epitome of everything that she can’t stand. The blonde doctor is going to be constantly cheerful and upbeat. Like Barbie in Toy Story. She shudders.

 Fuck Barbie.

Krystal had told her to sit at the table two down from the counter, next to the window. For a moment, she contemplates not doing it because why is she even here? She’s happy. She has Delphine, who is the greatest thing to happen to her, and she is content. But if she doesn’t show, Krystal will find out. Christ, it’s like school all over again – registers for every lesson and report cards every term. She sits down at the table and hides behind the menu. Ten minutes to go, and she’s planning on scoping out everyone who walks through that door. If she sees Barbie, she’s running, Krystal or no.

 

Ten minutes later, and Cosima is slumped across the table. She thinks she’s got maple syrup on her forehead but fuck it, this is Canada. That shit’s probably fashionable here. Even the money smells like maple syrup, whether by design or osmosis. She’s never understood why the Canadians love it so much. She, personally, prefers teeth over sugar. The shitty music is putting her to sleep and man, she does so not want to be here.

There’s some footsteps, a presence at her side and then;

“Cosima?”

“Hm?” Cosima lifts her head and squints. She gropes for her glasses, because some bastard really didn’t think about comfort when inventing them. She recognises that voice, though.

“Wait, Delphine?”

The blonde smirks, curls bouncing. “Cosima.”

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Cosima pushes herself upright, confusion evident. She panics. How to explain to your new girlfriend that you’re sitting in a café waiting for a blind date because you couldn’t say no to your pushy flatmate? How the fuck do you even start that conversation? “Delphine, I – I –, oh my god, I can explain.”

The smirk continues. “I think I am your date, non?”

Cosima practically deflates. “Oh my god, Krystal set me up and wouldn’t listen to me when I said I didn’t want to go and I hadn’t told her about you because I didn’t want her to ruin everything so I had to come and I was just going to let it happen and laugh about it with you later.” She sinks even lower into her chair and laughs breathily. “You? How did you get roped into this?”

“Felix.” Delphine sits opposite her, laughing, and steals a sip of Cosima’s coffee. The light through the window catches her hair, and for a moment, she looks just like an angel. It’s not been long, but _man_ , Cosima loves this woman.

She shakes her head. “Krystal said it was a blonde family doctor. I never thought…” She trails off, still reeling from the quick turn of events. “God, I wasn’t even going to come.”

“I said I was a doctor when I was at the salon.” Delphine said.  “I was getting my nails done for an interview with head office, and she did them for me. We chatted. I never told her about the top secret science things, so she just…assumed.”

“Delphine Cormier. You lied.”

Delphine smiles crookedly. “Oh,” she says, drinking Cosima’s coffee once more.  “I…implied.”

 

* * *

 

They’ve been at the shitty café for over an hour – neither of them like it, but then they’d ordered, and then there’d been cake, and then they’d been chatting, and it’s so easy to just lose yourself in someone else’s eyes when they’re so beautiful and funny and interesting, and –

“Omg Cosima, fancy seeing you here!”

The shrill voice seems to echo in Cosima’s head, bouncing from ear to ear and back again. She shakes herself out of her reverie to see Krystal tottering her way over to the table. She sighs. Of course she came to check up on them – Krystal couldn’t stay out of Cosima’s love life if the world depended on it.

“Krystal!” Cosima smiles more than a little fakely. She was having a nice date with her galpal, and now she has explain all this bullshit about how they’ve actually been dating for six months and haven’t just hooked up because of your stellar matchmaking skills, no Krystal.  “This is my girlfriend, Delphine.”

“We’ve met.” Krystal holds out her hand and inspects Delphine’s nails. She winks at Cosima and whispers, “You do move fast.”

“Well,” she says, straightening back up and adjusting her tight skirt. “I’ll leave you girls to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

Krystal turns and totters back across the café, calling back to them; “I knew this would work!”

Cosima turns back to Delphine, who has a hand pressed to her mouth as her shoulders move silently up and down. She shrugs. “We’ll let her believe it.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four years later, at their wedding, Krystal forces her way into being best (wo)man, and proceeds to tell the entire wedding breakfast, at length, about Cosima's terrible dating habits and how she, Krystal Goderitch, saved them all from certain lonesome doom. 

Delphine has to duck under the table halfway through. Cosima is slightly better at keeping a straight face.

**Author's Note:**

> krystal is the kind of person that italics were invented for
> 
> hopefully this was halfway decent and i haven't lost all literary skill, not that i had much to begin with


End file.
